I never had pizza until I was 15. It might not be my favourite food, but making it like from scratch and eating it fresh from the outside oven is pretty amazing pizza life. This morning I made the dough, let the yeast do its job. My dad prepared the oven, my sister baked a bread first and then the pizza went in. Cheap, authentic and so delicious.
It shouldn’t take much to be happy. Sometimes it only takes your hands covered in flower and tomato sauce. If I look back to the past week, I haven’t really been following that piece of advice. Caught up in my own thoughts about how the come up with another plan for my life. I forget to enjoy little moments such as today. Running in the autumn sunshine or looking at the smoke coming from the baking oven.
Yesterday I wrote about change and how it starts with yourself. Today was a good reminder that this doesn’t just count for traditions, but also for my own thinking. Sometimes it only takes a home made pizza. Life changing.